


Undeserved Affections

by beccadearie



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Tag, F/M, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beccadearie/pseuds/beccadearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU ending to 4x11 where Arthur marries Mithian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeserved Affections

**Author's Note:**

> An AU ending to 4x11. Thanks to Rachel, Lupe, and Lizzy for looking it over! :)

_Arthur had gotten over it eventually._

 

  
_  
Mithian had always been perfectly alright with the notion. In fact, it was her idea in the first place.  
_

  
"I understand perfectly," she said quietly on one of the morning picnics that had become their tradition. "You have a history with him that I can't begin to compete with." She smiled demurely, in a way that was a complete contrast to her next words. "What happens outside the marriage bed doesn't concern me, as long as you produce me an heir and come visit me once in a while at night."

  
Arthur was at a loss for words, spots of color appearing high on his cheeks. He was suddenly _very_ happy that Merlin was currently watering the horses. "But, er, we're not actually," he stuttered in a very un-kingly fashion. "Well, that is to say," he trailed off as Mithian raised a perfect eyebrow. "That is in the past," he said abruptly. "We are to be married; there is no place for others." In fact, he and Merlin hadn't had, er, _relations_ ever since he had proposed to Gwen. Merlin had come to him, once, after the wedding day, but - Arthur hadn't been in the mood. He hadn't been in the mood for a very long time in fact. Merlin had tried, he had tried very hard, but Arthur had only been cruel to him in return.

  
"Oh, Arthur," Mithian said, "are you so naïve to the way of kings? At least this way I know there will be no bastards running around."

  
Arthur's cheeks colored even more. "But we aren't- That is to say, princess, we haven't been- I was pledged to be married," he changed directions. "And then spurned on the eve of my wedding. From the time of my betrothal until now, Merlin and I- we haven't-"

  
"Oh, so you had a falling out." Mithian smiled understandingly. "That can be fixed, my lord. I've seen the way he looks at you. He would easily come back to your side." She raised an eyebrow and took a dainty sip of the well-watered wine.

  
"It isn't Merlin this time," Arthur couldn't help but tell her. He was putty in her hands, the little vixen. "I've been . . . different, ever since I banished Gwen. She broke my heart," he said honestly. "Even now, the feelings I had for her cloud my judgment on my relationship with you." He looked up and reached over to press at her dainty hand.

  
Her small fingers squeezed, offering him comfort. "We shall take care of you," she said. "Merlin and I. We will set you right."

Arthur felt a choking lump growing in his throat, one that he couldn't answer through. Which was probably for the best, for Merlin had returned and was now sitting quietly behind a tree, the model servant, except for the fact that he was just within earshot.

  
Mithian smiled knowingly and changed the subject to less scandalous topics.

 

  
\---

 

  
That didn't mean that she dropped the subject completely. There were sly comments thrown into their conversations, certain knowing glances that she shot him while he recounted several tales of his journeys and adventures.

  
"And you said Merlin was with you?" she would say, and laugh, throwing her head back, revealing a porcelain white neck that led into graceful shoulders, all swooping down into the bosom of her dress. Arthur would be forced to admit that, yes, Merlin had been with him, and had even been quite helpful at times, if just by making the time pass more quickly. Her smile was very flustering at times. Arthur often felt that she understood him too well.

  
The wedding date was a month away and Arthur had still not talked to Merlin. Mithian came to him, and demanded that things be set right before they continued.

  
"If you don't talk to him, I will," she warned him and Arthur turned away, tight-lipped. They had long since put aside the formalities between the two of them. They both enjoyed hunting, and the majority of the time they spent together was in the woods: on picnics, discussing their childhoods, the state of their kingdoms, or the complicated mess that was their future marriage bed, whatever came to mind.

  
But Arthur had been stubborn. Mithian had waited a week before she sought out Merlin, who was cleaning Arthur's rooms at the time. Claiming to have misplaced a handkerchief in his quarters, she sat awhile as Merlin scrubbed the floor, speaking to him of the castle gossip, how Gauis was, interesting patients that Merlin had attending, oh, and, when was the last time Merlin had been with the king?

  
Merlin stopped short at that, sitting back on his heels, arms still aching and water dripping from his scrub brush. Mithian was gazing out the window, her hand fan lightly stirring the air. "I'm sorry, princess?" It was less of a question and more of a reminder of place and duty.

  
She shot him a sly look. "I do not pretend that I know all of the king's history, but know I this: you and him used to find comfort in one another, pleasure even. Why not again?" Her perfectly calm and cultured voice was in sharp contrast to her words.

  
"My lady?" Merlin gasped, at a loss for words. "He is betrothed to be married! To you! My lady!"

  
"And before that? What about after Guinevere left?" She spoke of the time of such pain with an easy, graceful air. And yet, somehow, her treatment of them made the hurt more bearable. "What then?"

  
"The king-" Merlin stopped, remembering just who he was talking to. The flush of embarrassment that was filling his neck finally reached his cheeks.

  
"Please, do not be embarrassed," Mithian said earnestly. "I do not dare to say I understand the minds of men, but I do know how to deal with them. Arthur is unhappy, even now. I feel that the two of us, together, can make him happy. Please, go on."

  
With this gentle prodding, Merlin was able to look her in the eye again. "The king has been . . . heartbroken. He made himself vulnerable to Gwen, and she betrayed him. She betrayed him in front of his kingdom, his people, and . . . He's been trying to make up for it ever since." Merlin bent his head, trying to gather his thoughts as well as his feelings. His tongue was thick as he said his next words, "He doesn't wish to make himself that vulnerable again, even to the ones he is closest to." He swallowed hard. Arthur's rejection still hurt. He had understood when it was Gwen; Gwen had never known about the two of them. Arthur had felt wrong promising himself to Gwen when he . . . When he was with another. But afterward, Arthur had just wanted to be alone, something very new for him. Arthur worked well with other people. He constantly bounced his ideas off of Merlin, if just to think things through by speaking his thoughts aloud.

  
After Gwen, Arthur had gone silent. He'd taken to staring pensively into space, refusing Merlin's company, ordering him from the room after Merlin turned the bed down, or, at other times, before.

  
"If this wasn't Arthur we were talking about, I would say that he was too afraid to open up again," Mithian's gentle voice cut through his thoughts. Merlin shrugged, noncommittal. "That would explain why he would agree to an arranged marriage, instead of a marriage of his own devising," she said. Merlin looked up, caught her eye, and nodded, just once. He had suspected as much too.

  
She sighed. "Well, the time has come for that to change." She made sure Merlin was paying attention before continuing on. She need not have bothered: Merlin couldn't have been listening any harder. "You should go to him. Comfort him once more. Make him relax. He's too tense!" Merlin inclined his head, curious, yet agreeing with her.

  
"We could make him happy, you and I."

  
Merlin studied her. After he got over the fact that a princess was offering to share her husband with him, the proposition made sense. Somehow. Well, Merlin wasn't exactly adverse to the plan. He definitely wouldn't say no, as long as Mithian was in agreement. "You don't mind sharing your husband with me?" he said slowly.

  
Mithian shrugged, her shoulders barely moving. "I have no doubts that Arthur will fulfill his duties of a husband just as thoroughly as he fulfills his duties as a king. However," she shot him a knowing glance, "you are the bright spot in his days. There is just something about you two. You complete each other." She tapped a graceful finger against her lips. "I can't quite grasp the words for it. It's more than just physical for you two, it's . . . Complete."

  
Merlin shook his head, quickly. "No, not complete. With Arthur, it's relief, yes, it's physical but it's never been about feelings, it's never been-" Love. He doesn't say it. He doesn't have to. Mithian sees it in his eyes.

  
"You say it's not," she says quietly, "but I say it is." Merlin stared at her, wordless. He was aware of his own feelings; he had been for a long time. Arthur, on the other hand, had the emotional range of a badger when it came to matters of the heart.

  
"As I said," she continued, "we could make him happy, you and I. Arthur and I will have separate bedchambers, as is proper, and well, when he is not fulfilling his duties as a husband, I fear that his bed will be quite empty. I suppose you may have his days too." That smile (it couldn't be called a smirk, not on a princess) was becoming familiar on her face. She paused and seemed to be waiting for him to say something, which was stupid in Merlin's eyes.

  
"As if I'd say no," he scoffed.

  
Mithian grinned. "Alright then, we are agreed. Arthur and I are to be married in a month, suppose you make amends somewhat soon?"

  
Merlin shook his head. "Arthur. It's- He won't just- Not if I-"

  
Mithian nodded, cutting off Merlin's attempt to explain the enigma that was King Arthur. "Leave that to me. I will talk to him." She cast him one last smile, conspiratorial, before leaving him to his work.

 

  
\---

 

  
Through asking Arthur several pointed questions that week, she could tell that her plans were stalling. Then, one afternoon she was to meet Arthur in the courtyard for a ride and he was late. Dismissing the groomsmen, she strode up to the King's chambers herself just as King Arthur and Merlin burst out of the doors, saw her, and both flushed simultaneously.

  
"Good afternoon Milord. Merlin." She nodded at them both in turn. "I see you had other forms of exercise in mind this morning when I suggested we go on a ride." It should have been unladylike, the way she smirked, but surprisingly, it was just charming. "However, it might be fitting for you to fix your hair before we go, so it does not look wind swept before even walking outside." Merlin's hair was a lost case, messy as it was, but Arthur's hair was tamed with a few practiced sweeps of her hand. "And," she paused, stepping back and smoothing at the skirt of her dress, "your laces." Arthur looked down to see that his trouser laces were hanging loose.

  
"Merlin!" he snapped and Merlin rolled his eyes.

  
"You did say you were in a hurry," he answered in a waspish tone while Arthur tied his laces, yanking the cords tight. Their faces could not be any redder.

  
"Well," Mithian's eyes danced when the two men turned away from their lover's quarrel to look at her. "I'm glad you two have made up. How about we go on that ride now?"

  
"Of course," Arthur took charge once more, offering her his arm. "You are most gracious milady, to wait for me."

  
She smiled. "Oh sire, I understand perfectly." She shot an unmaidenly wink towards Merlin and he smothered a grin of his own. It was hard to remain embarrassed around Mithian's easy way of talking of things. "You should join us on our ride, Merlin."

  
"Oh, I don't think-"

  
"Well, I do." She shot a smile back at him as they walked through the corridors.

  
All three of them were grinning as they walked out into the courtyard. Arthur's shoulders hadn't been so relaxed since Lancelot had returned to them.

 

 

  
\---

 

 

  
Mithian had been right. Arthur had fulfilled his duties of a husband just as well as he did his role as a king. The wedding day was a joyous occasion for all in attendance, something that Merlin had never dared to hope for.

  
It was not only a marriage of convenience, of strategy, but also of mutual respect and affection.

  
As per ceremony, the newly married couple were left to their wedded bliss in their wedding chamber, but the morning after that, the newly crowned Queen of Camelot moved into her more formal chambers next door to Arthur's. They were connected, of course, but most nights Mithian locked her maidservant out, so as not to create suspicion, and the servant's chamber off of Arthur's rooms was used a fair amount less than most would think.

  
She never mentioned the nights when Arthur's door was shut to her, but he never turned her away when she knocked.

  
Too many times, she went in to wish him a good morning, and found the king cuddled in bed with his manservant, too drowsy to do more than stir as she pushed back the curtains.

  
"Good morning," she told them primly. "Merlin, I do believe you are shirking your duties again. Marion has already dressed me for the day and provided me with breakfast. And I believe that the king has an audience in an hour?"

  
They peered at her from under the covers and managed to look sheepish as well as sleepy. "I do apologize," Arthur told her as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He was far too comfortable with the both of them, for he seemed not to care that he was wearing nothing but for . . . well, _anything_. "I meant to turn in early last night and offer you a morning ride, however, Merlin distracted me."

  
Merlin rolled his eyes and remained under the bedclothes, ever the petulant servant. "He started it," he muttered and wriggled around, presumably to find his trousers. He was slightly more modest than Arthur, especially since he wasn't actually sleeping with Mithian. She helpfully threw him the trousers that were lying a good three feet from the bed before stepping behind the screen to hand Arthur the shirt she'd pulled from his cupboard.

  
"Wear this one," she instructed him. "It matches your eyes."

  
Arthur smiled at her as he pulled the shirt on over his head. When he was done, she offered him the arms of his jacket and his shrugged into it. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he said, awe creeping into his voice as he rested his palm against her cheek.

  
"If you say me, I will kill you," came Merlin's voice from the other side of the room. The sound of splashing water, Merlin washing up, filtered over the screen.

  
Arthur turned, affronted, to Mithian. "Did you hear that, my dear? An assassination attempt! By my very own servant!"

  
Mithian quirked a smile at him. "What ever shall we do, my lord?"

  
Arthur only had to think a moment before an extremely witty reply was on the tip of his tongue.

  
"While you're contemplating that," Merlin broke in, poking his head behind the screen, fully dressed and ready for the day, "I will go get breakfast."

  
"Better late than never Merlin." Arthur sighed and picked up his belt. Strange as it seemed, this was just another morning.

 

  
\---

 

  
Mithian was very good at not mentioning things. She didn't mention Arthur's occasional hunting trips with just Merlin for company. She didn't mention how, once in while, she found his chambers locked during the day, and Arthur nowhere to be found. And, the rare times she found herself in his bed, she especially didn't mention the distinct stubble burn on his thighs.

  
Arthur was getting tired of being embarrassed every time she didn't mention things, so he just stopped being embarrassed. Merlin's country boy attitude had set in soon after Mithian had propositioned him, so the third time she had caught them in a strange corner, breathless and panting, he had just shrugged and offered her his place.

  
(Of course not, she had told him, it looks like you're having far too much fun.)

  
Merlin and Mithian got on all too well with each other, much to Arthur's chagrin.

  
Really, the Queen and the King's favorite shouldn't be that friendly. It was rather disconcerting how well each of them understood each other. How well the two of them understood Arthur.

  
They were good for him. They kept him happy. Looked after, cared for. Loved.

  
Arthur was lucky. Sometimes he forgot this, but one of Mithian's favorite things to do was to remind him as she woke him and Merlin, a bemused expression on her face.

  
"I shudder to fathom what the court thinks of me," she said dryly as she watched Arthur cover the purpling love bites at this neck with an especially high necked jacket.

  
"They think you’re lovely," Arthur assured her, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "As do I."

  
"Always the charmer," she sighed, and surprised him by brushing a quick peck on his cheek. "Oh, Arthur. You are happy, aren't you?"

  
Arthur smiled. "Deliriously."

  
"Then I am happy too. However the Council won't be happy if you arrive late again." She patted his cheek, fond, before turning away.

  
Arthur watched her, almost reverently. "I don't deserve you, lady," he said in a hushed tone, pausing in doing up his belt.

  
She turned back to wink at him. "You're right," she sighed. "But you're welcome to try."

  
"He doesn't deserve me either," Merlin called, butting in as always. "But he never tries to."

  
Mithian turned to survey him, still lying in bed, covers pulled up only to his bare waist. "Get up, lazy," she teased him. "Marion washed my bedchamber floor yesterday. When was the last time this floor was washed?"

  
Merlin thought for a moment. "I tried washing it a week ago, but, er, it ended badly." He shrugged with a cheerful grin. "You should ask the king about it."

  
"He's lying," Arthur said from behind the screen. "He's always lying, that one."

  
Mithian rolled her eyes. "I never know if I'm dealing with grown men or children when I talk to the two of you." The door to her bedchamber snapped shut behind her.

  
"Was she angry?" Arthur appeared from behind the dressing screen, which, come to think of it, was wholly unnecessary, given the circumstances.

  
"No." Merlin shook his head slowly. "More like resigned. Probably wondering what she got herself into."

  
Arthur was the the one that rolled his eyes at that, and proceeded to bodily drag Merlin out of bed and put him in his daily clothes.

  
"You are far too lazy to be a good servant," he told him, knotting Merlin's neckerchief for him. "I should fire you forthwith."

  
Merlin snorted. "You wouldn't last two nights without me here."

  
He should have known better. Arthur took everything as a challenge.

  
Merlin was wrong. Arthur lasted two weeks without Merlin in his bed. However, both of them were equally as stubborn, so it was Mithian that finally dragged the sulky Merlin out of his servant's chambers in the middle of the night and propelled him towards the bed, complaining as she left about kings that wanted to cuddle and talk while she just wished for some sleep.

  
Merlin was careful about the wording of his teasing from that point onward.

 

  
\---

 

  
The days grew shorter and the nights longer and colder as the seasons changed. The threat of attacks, Morgana particularly, grew less and less as most raiders and soldiers preferred to stay indoors in front of their fires rather than freezing their feet off in the woods.

  
It was rather peaceful, this staying of indoors, although it lessened Arthur, Mithian, and Merlin's frequent outings of riding and hunting in the woods. They found themselves in front of the hearth in Arthur's chambers more than one evening, Arthur working on reports at the table, Merlin lounging on the rug, reading, and Mithian working on some embroidering, or simply making snarky comments as she watched the fire crack and pop.

  
It was comfortable. They would enjoy the companionship and warmth, and, more often than not, Mithian would retire to her room, and Arthur and Merlin would retire to their bed.

  
One of these such nights, the cold pressed them to place extra rags in the windows, caused the watchmen to stay huddled over their fires, the cold forbidding the possibility of attack.

  
It was the night when frost covered the flagstones of Arthur's room on the far side from the fire, when Arthur awoke to the sound of a knock at the connecting door to Mithian's chambers.

  
Merlin protested sleepily when Arthur extricated himself from his grip, shivering as the bed clothes were adjusted to allow Arthur to pull on warm socks and his boots before braving his way across the floor to the door.

  
"My lady," he said when he opened the door. She stood, shivering, in naught but her nightgown and thin slippers.

  
"I foolishly turned my maidservant away tonight," she said, sounding more than a little annoyed with herself. "I underestimated the cold. May I stay with you tonight? The bed is big enough for three, is it not?"

  
Arthur nodded quickly and ushered her in, shutting the door firmly behind her. The draft coming in from her room was _freezing_. He stoked the fire and added a few logs before leading her back to the bed, pushing Merlin over before removing his boots and climbing in. He might have been wearing breeches against the cold, but Merlin was naked in the bed, needing only Arthur's presence to keep from getting chilled.

  
Mithian climbed in after him, and yes, she was right. There was room for three in the bed.

  
He wrapped strong arms around her, pulling her close, her layers of night gown very cold underneath his arms. She shivered against him, toeing off her slippers under the covers and pressing icy toes against his calf. Hissing slightly, he chafed her arms through the silk sleeves of her nightgown. No, he decided, it would be improper to tell her that it would be easier for her to remove it, at least at this time. He tightened his arms as she pressed a cold nose into his neck, wrapping a leg around the back of her knees, lending her his warmth.

  
They fell asleep like that, cradled in their shared warmth, leaving Merlin a rather interesting surprise in the morning when he flung an arm over Arthur's shoulder, only to land in a handful of hair, and to press his knee between Arthur's thighs only to find another one already there. He was very confused for a moment, snuggled up against Arthur's bare back, halting his fingers dipping into the waistband of the back of Arthur's sleeping breeches. He frowned and then woke Arthur up by scratching his morning stubble across the back of Arthur's neck, something that always made Arthur gasp when awake.

  
He woke slowly, the muscles in his back clenching reflexively, before craning his head slightly backwards. Merlin rested his head in the hollow of Arthur's neck, seeing that Mithian was still buried in Arthur's chest.

  
"Good morning," Arthur said raspily, blinking sleepily. "It was rather cold last night."

  
Merlin huffed, a warm puff of air against Arthur's adam's apple. "Still is," he muttered and then dozed off again, draped warmly against Arthur's back.

  
Arthur turned slightly toward him, brushing his nose against Merlin's raven locks ( _not_ smelling him) and then leaned down to press a kiss against Mithian's brown hair. How did he get so lucky?


End file.
